


IT'S NEVER THAT CLEAR

by egbert



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egbert/pseuds/egbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a very precise morning routine that he follows. Wake up, cuddle up against Dave until he gets too fidgety and is kicked out of bed, shuffle off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, wander to the kitchen to put the coffee on, and roll around on the living room floor uselessly between messages to Jade or Rose until Dave gets up. Normally that’s when the coffee pot finishes and the promising smell of caffeine drifts into their bedroom. </p>
<p>He’s only just stepped under the hot spray of the shower when he hears the door of the bathroom open, familiar footsteps crossing the room. Ready to poke his head out from behind the curtain, there’s really no need to when Dave steps in beside him, pushes him back against the tiled wall, and kisses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	IT'S NEVER THAT CLEAR

**Author's Note:**

  * For [folklores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/folklores/gifts).



John has a very precise morning routine that he follows. Wake up, cuddle up against Dave until he gets too fidgety and is kicked out of bed, shuffle off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, wander to the kitchen to put the coffee on, and roll around on the living room floor uselessly between messages to Jade or Rose until Dave gets up. Normally that's when the coffee pot finishes and the promising smell of caffeine drifts into their bedroom.   
  
He's only just stepped under the hot spray of the shower when he hears the door of the bathroom open, familiar footsteps crossing the room. Ready to poke his head out from behind the curtain, there's really no need to when Dave steps in beside him, pushes him back against the tiled wall, and kisses him.   
  
It's not gentle or nice by any means; isn't a good morning kiss, one that's sleep addled, lazy with a touch of tongue. No-   
  
Dave's mouth sears against his own, comes with demanding heat as he bites his bottom lip before coaxing his mouth open with his tongue, tastes him without hesitation. There isn't much reciprocation to be given, John too shocked to keep up with the kiss that leaves him dizzy and breathless. Instead, he focuses on reaching up to grip Dave's shoulders to keep himself steady, the kiss sending him reeling and unable to focus on what he should be doing.   
  
Not that he can recall what he'd meant to be doing in the first place.   
  
The heat of Dave's body is not even close to comparable to the temperature of the water beating down on them, makes John want to draw him closer so he can arch against him and have more of that warmth. It sets his skin alight, spreads a blush across his cheeks and down his neck-   
  
And it's almost as though Dave follows the blush, brushes his lips across John's jawline and down his neck. Parting his lips over the skin, he bites down, uses enough pressure that could leave a mark behind; he's only truly spurred on to do so when John's nails dig in against his shoulders, a perfectly clear indication that continuing would be in his best interest.   
  
The mark is bright red against John's pale skin, will bruise later, but neither of them seem to care. Quite the opposite, actually, as evident when Dave begins on another mark, completely opposite to the first. The water is turning a little colder with each passing moment, John reaching blindly through the spray to turn it up higher as Dave's mouth works over him, sends shudders down his spine, makes his toes curl pleasantly. His neck might not necessarily be as sensitive as Dave's can be, but it's hard to deny the way it makes his whole body flush to have Dave's mouth against him.   
  
Only when the spray of the water turns marginally less warm does John actually pull himself from the haze that Dave has created in his mind, the weight of arousal that tugs him down and away from sensibilities, such as-   
  
"Dave, what are you doing?" Normally, John would hate the way his voice cracks, but with Dave's mouth still working along him, he figures that counts as a decent enough excuse.   
  
His boyfriend laughs against his neck, drags his teeth across a pulse point before he murmurs into his skin. "Seducing you, Egbert, the fuck does it look like?"   
  
All John can manage is a soft 'oh' under his breath.   
  
There's a brief moment where Dave is gone, the heat of his body against John's disappears, but it's a _second_. Just this brief pause in time where he's there, isn't, and then becomes suddenly present again as though he'd never disappeared in the first place; fucking flashstepping bullshit. One hand is against John's hip, thumb pressing just under the bone, fingers digging in against his skin soon after. It's that, just that one gesture, and John _knows_. Just this simple realization that dawns on him from that touch and he's suddenly so fucking aware of how badly Dave might need him right now.   
  
His arms reach, wrap around Dave's neck so he can pull him down against him and crash their mouths together. The haze isn't what it was before, because that one _touch_ brought such fucking clarity to him that John feels like maybe he could focus on just about anything right now.   
  
The hand on his hip moves, drags blunt nails over heated skin before he drags them down where his thigh meets his torso, leaves bright red marks behind that maybe John likes a bit too much. They're long forgotten when Dave's hand curls around his dick and strokes once and _fucking hell_ if he hadn't been hard before the rush of blood to his cock makes it painfully obvious that he is now. His hips roll, press up against the tightened fist around his erection and he groans into the kiss as Dave strokes him. It's fucking slow, so unsatisfying, but the grip is tight and almost mimics what it's like to be inside of Dave, so John can't help but thrust up into it, fucking his fist and whining into the kiss, moaning, making these fucking embarrassing noises that John might not admit to making later.   
  
And he knows why Dave is doing this. He fucking _knows_ because he's done it before. Making John ache for him and need him and _want him so desperately_ that he won't know what to do with himself other than beg and whine and plead and _god Dave why won't you touch me_. It's painfully obvious when the hand that had once been letting him thrust up into it was gone and not replaced. Not by his hand again, nor by mouth or anything else, instead he was left painfully hard and aching as precome beaded at the tip of his dick, his breath already short, coming out in something akin to a staccato beat.   
  
Dave listens, figures he could mix music to it, and fuck maybe he wants to. Maybe he wants John Egbert splayed out against his turntables with short breaths and pitched moans that accent against the beat so fucking _flawlessly_ and it's that thought alone that makes him want it. To see him like that, all fucking open and vulnerable, letting Dave take exactly what he needs to make the sound perfect while keeping him safe as fucking houses the entire time.   
  
But John's getting impatient and it's pretty fucking understandable considering he was accosted in the shower, macked on, and then giving the most unsatisfying hand job in the history of their lives. (Dave briefly feels like a shit boyfriend, but he knows he'll be making up for it in about ten seconds.)   
  
John's pulling him down for another kiss but it doesn't last long at all -- of course it doesn't, not at this point in the game. Fuck that, too many other things to do.   
  
Dave pulls from the kiss and John debates on following him when he does, but when he pulls out of John's arms, nudges him to turn around and guides his hands up to press against the wall of the shower, John hates Dave a bit and blames him entirely for the scarlet blush that hits his cheeks and makes his entire face feel too damn hot. He's frozen for a moment, unsure of what he's meant to be doing at this point, but Dave always has been good at leading him through when John's brain doesn't supply the immediate information.   
  
Warm hands guide his feet and thighs apart, presses down on his lower back so he bends enough to give Dave the angle he needs, and then-   
  
He just relaxes, eases himself forward to rest his forearms against the wall and sag against it a bit, finding the sound of the water and the way Dave's hands move over his skin bringing him enough ease to cause his entire body to begin relaxing despite the ever present strain of arousal between them. His relaxation is really a benefit though, one that comes to use when Dave pops the cap of the lube in his hand-   
  
so _that's_ what he flash stepped for   
  
-and only moments later that a slicked finger is rubbing against his entrance before dipping in, barely, and while he normally has to remind John to _fuck, relax, it's okay_ , there's very little need to this time. He eases one finger in, slow, presses it deep and pulls back out just as slowly. He takes his fucking time, despite knowing the hot water will run out eventually, despite how aroused he is, despite how John is probably ready to fucking _kill him_ for leaving him hard and aching.   
  
It's only when he presses a second finger inside that John finally tightens a little, tenses, and Dave's fingers are only in part of the way when John begins to clench around him, practically milking his digits, forcing Dave to push them in as deep as possible. His stilted breathing returns and John does his best not to make a noise despite the way he presses back against Dave's hand, how wants to ask for more, but fuck-   
  
Fuck-   
  
Words are really fucking difficult when Dave Strider is fucking you and no matter how many times it happens, John can never seem to remember how speaking works at first. Instead, he presses back insistently, rocks his hips a little while Dave's fingers move, pushpullpushpull, stretching him in preparation. A third finger joins the other two and John has to gasp out Dave's name, tightening hard around his fingers and-   
  
It's a new sort of sting when fingers connect with the left cheek of his ass, the sensation amplified from the water, and John has to bite back a sound. "Going to take my fucking fingers off if you don't relax, Egbert."   
  
There's no sting to his words, just a deep set tone of authority that Dave can get when they're fucking and John really doesn't mind. Goes straight to his dick and makes him throb a little more. Paired with the sting of the slap, John finds himself maddeningly hard, and he realizes that if he doesn't follow what Dave told him, it might happen again.   
  
It takes him a moment to relax before John purposefully clenches around Dave's fingers again, pressing back against them until they're as deep as they'll go.   
  
Dave's hand connects with his opposite cheek this time, smacks the skin a bright red and John actually moans this time, high pitched and it sounds so damn filthy. Dave has to pause, take a moment, because fuck if it isn't one of the hottest noises he's ever heard in his damn life. It's only when he realizes what, exactly, pulled that out of John, that Dave finally clicks in and connects it all.   
  
His fingers are merciless when he fucks him, presses them deep, curls and twists them on their way out. He's neglectful of John's prostate, only brushes against it by accident while trying entirely too hard not to hit it at all. The resounding _crack_ of skin against skin is unmistakable, Dave switching between left and right cheeks until both are cherry fucking red in front of him and John is a god damn wreck against the wall, made up of dry sobs of pleasure and gyrating hips that ache for satisfaction.   
  
Dave bends down, presses his lips against the base of John's spine and finally removes his fingers from him, reaches for the bottle he had discarded by their shampoo to drizzle a generous amount of lube across his straining cock, coating it liberally before pressing against John's entrance. His boyfriend arches back against him, tries to get Dave to maybe move a little faster, and he can't help but laugh under his breath, palm connecting to the left cheek of John's ass. "Fucking impatient today, aren't we, babe?"   
  
It takes a moment for a response to come, John searching for his voice once again, and even when he finally murmurs out a response it's so fucking strained, voice heavy with arousal. "M-Maybe if you fucked me instead of t-this shitty v-version of foreplay, there wouldn't be a- _ah_ \- fffucking problem."   
  
He tries his best not to but Dave just laughs when he pushes inside of him and goes as deep as he's able to on the first movement, pulling out an inch before he sinks in the rest of the way. John's dragging his nails across the wall of the shower, breathing hard and cursing him out and groaning while he clenches so fucking _tight_ around him that Dave's pretty sure he might be seeing stars.   
  
Whether it's intentional or not doesn't matter-   
  
His hand comes down across John's right cheek hard enough to make his palm sting and for John to practically _scream_ for him. And Dave's so fucking satisfied, thinks it's one of the hottest things he's heard in his life, so when he pulls out and pushes back in, he slaps the opposite cheek just as hard and John's screaming for him again, crying out and choking on his next breath, clawing at the wall and looking for fucking _something_ to grip onto because he's pretty sure he's going fucking crazy right now.   
  
And then there's a pause.   
  
A moment in which Dave snaps his hips forward, buries himself deep, and just fucking _stays there_. He leans over John, presses his chest against his back and aligns them so damn perfectly as he presses his mouth to John's neck, bites down on skin and drags his teeth up to his ear -- John's convinced that Dave leaves a fire across his skin in the wake of his mouth but he really can't be sure. Not with how the heat flares across every inch of him, consumes him so entirely, makes his hands shake and his entire body _ache_ with need to the point that it's almost painful.   
  
Dave's voice, as much as John wishes it would, doesn't bring any relief to him. Instead, it simply makes the fire flare brighter, burn hotter.   
  
"Going to fuck you into the wall, baby. Hard as I can until you're screamin' for me. Might let you come if I'm feelin' nice today, then drag you around the house and fuck you everywhere. Have your ass nice and fuckin' red when I smack it to get you to behave all proper for me." Dave laughs against his ear, low and breathy, and it should _not_ make John ache even more but it fucking _does_. "C'mon now, darlin'. Why don't you let me hear that pretty voice of yours sing like a fuckin' songbird for me, huh?"   
  
And just as quickly as Dave had been against him he's gone again, pulling out and leaving a sting behind on each cheek with the tips of his fingers before he's gripping John's hips and fucking him like he really wants to. Because Dave's been aching for ages, woke up craving John in ways he couldn't explain, and it's only not satisfying when he fucks him now, snaps his hips forward and buries himself inside that tight waiting heat that he knows full and well craves his dick the way he aches to fuck it.   
  
John's hands are splayed out against the wall, head drooping between arms, and he never stops speaking. It's either a whine, sometimes a moan, but it's almost always _Dave_ ; repeats his name, constant, murmurs it under his breath and along moans, pitched high in his throat when he whimpers for him as he grinds back against his cock when he goes deep enough. One hand slips down a few inches, temptation winning out at keeping his hands there, wanting so fucking bad to reach between his thighs and-   
  
Before he can, Dave's fingers tangle in his hair, wrenching his head back as his other hand comes down hard across John's ass, palm stinging from the force, pulling another loud cry from him.   
  
"Don't. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Don't you fffucking touch-  fuck- -yourself." Because he's the one that initiated this, and he's the one that wants to make John come until he can't keep standing.   
  
So that's exactly what he fucking does.   
  
His hold on John's hair relaxes, smooths across his head, down the back of his neck, skirts along the curve of his spine; he thrusts in deep and grinds against him when his hand curls around John's cock, strokes him once, slow as he fucking can, and the _noise_ that John makes isn't something he's entirely sure he'll ever hear again. It's mixed between relief and pleasure, the finality of being touched after waiting for what felt like an eternity. It's all soft noises and high pitched sounds and whimpers of Dave's name, and it's all wrapped up in this single moment of John Egbert and how he _aches_ for his best friend in ways he won't ever be able to fathom.   
  
Dave fucks him hard, faster than before, grips his hip with his free hand to drag him back against him with each thrust and fists his cock to stroke him at the same pace. Angling his hips, he does his best to thrust in and hit that spot that makes John forget _everything_ except for Dave's name. There's no more _please_ , no begging of _harder_ , and no demands of _faster, Dave, come on_ , which has echoed through the bathroom continually since he first pushed inside of him. No-   
  
There's nothing but Dave's name now, every time he rubs across it as he thrusts inside, and John feels like he might burst.   
  
All he can do is repeat Dave's name, dropping his head between his arms again as he stays focused on keeping balance and staying upright as his boyfriend does everything he could possibly need at that very moment. His hips snap forward, the sound of skin against skin echoing through their bathroom while Dave fucks him ruthlessly, never pausing or slowing, a constant driving force of pleasure; his hand mirrors his hips, and John's pretty sure he can feel himself unraveling pretty fucking fast when the hand on his dick begins to twist, thumb rubbing over the slit at his tip and _oh god please_ \-   
  
Dave's voice breaks through the sound of their harsh panting and skin connecting, his shortness of breath fracturing his sentence. "T-That's it, love. Now come on- Why don't you come for me?"   
  
_come for me, come for me-_   
  
John's entire body _freezes_ , locks up, and had his brain not been completely turned off, he may have been concerned about the possibility of his knees buckling under his weight. Instead all he can think is _yes, yes, yes_ , and _Dave_ , and nothing but his boyfriends name is coming out of his mouth as his hips jerk against his hand. He fucks into the tight grip of his fist, arms trembling from the exertion of trying to keep himself supported through it and blood rushes in his ears as he finally comes. His orgasm is hard, hits him quickly, spilling thick ropes of white down into the shower and across Dave's hand, probably ends up making a mess of the wall in the process.   
  
When the peak of it hits, Dave can't fathom trying to hold back, not with how painfully tight John becomes. He thrusts in deep, short bursts of movement as he barely pulls out before burying himself in again, repeats it a few times, erratic movements that spur him on constantly before he's hitting the edge as well. Dave rocks in deep, grinds against John and drops his forehead to John's back, groaning his name loud enough that it echoes off the walls as he fills him.   
  
Neither of them move at first, too busy catching their breaths and making sure they can remember how to stay standing, even if John thinks he might fail at it within a moment or two. His voice is rough when he speaks, hoarse from all the noise he'd been making. "Did you mean it?"   
  
Dave sighs, biting back a sound as he pulls out of him, pressing a kiss against John's back. "What part?"   
  
"Um," John pauses, can feel the blush heating his cheeks. Dave's always been the one to talk about it; John just enjoyed listening. "A-About, you know- All over the apartment?"   
  
Pressing kisses up along the length of his spine, Dave stops at his neck, smirks against it. "Guess you better hurry up with this stupidly long shower and find out."


End file.
